Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

🐈‍⬛

When Adrien was ten, he begged for permission to model. He wanted to wear pretty clothes and spend more time with his father, especially since his mother had started getting… sleepy earlier and earlier. It was a win-win.

He doesn’t quite put into words all the ways it hasn’t worked until years later.

The obvious one, that only took him a few months to understand, was that he doesn’t get to spend more time with his father, as his father is rarely present at shoots, and what time he does spend with him is now as much focused on discussing his appearance and professionalism as on his academic success and musical performances.

And then his mother disappears, and with her, what little warmth his father ever possessed.

He is sixteen when he realizes that the disappointment he feels about modeling isn’t all directed at his father.

He presses his back firmly against the back of his couch, sitting on the floor behind it. He is taking slow, deep breaths.

This is not something he can let himself get Akumatised for. Not that it’s normally a risk he gets to take, being Chat Noir.

One of the best and worst parts of being a hero is currently floating in front of his face, saying words that Adrien can’t register no matter how hard he tries—if he focuses too hard on Plagg, his breathing goes wonky again and his vision starts to swim and he can’t focus on Plagg, he has to focus on his breathing.

But he should listen, when he’s being spoken to. He’s being so rude, right now, and he should be ashamed, he isashamed*,* but even the shame coursing through him is just fueling his stuttering heart and straining lungs.

His lips are tingling.

He needs Plagg to shut up; if Plagg stopped talking, he could stop trying to listen.

“C-claws out!”

And he tips to the side.

Or at least, he must.

Because he’s blinking his eyes open, looking sideways at the world, hearing a voice call through his door, “Adrien, you have ten minutes to get to the car.”

“I’ll be—” he coughed, sitting up. “I’ll be right there!”

And he could hear Nathalie’s heels clicking away.

He winced at the sharp sound.

He took a deep breath.

Okay.

…Okay!

He can do this.

He had been to hundreds of photo shoots, and this one would be exactly the same.

Before hyperventilating, he’d been looking at pictures of himself with his mother, from before he’d started modeling professionally.

He was sitting in her lap, looking up at her. He could remember, being ten, looking up at her beaming face, wanting to be as pretty as her some day.

He still wanted to be as pretty as his mother some day.

But he had realized that he would settle for pretty at all, instead of handsome.

And he had been hyperventilating before he could put the rest of it into words.

He moved into his bathroom to wash the tears from his face and then realized that he was still transformed.

It was all a blur after that, his body moving on auto pilot, his mind hiding from reality.

Detransforming, making his way down to the car, the ride to the photoshoot, having his hair done, being made up, being prodded by the two assistants it took to get him dressed without messing up his makeup and hair, the flashing lights, the loud voices, those assistants helping him into another outfit, more voices, more lights, more, more, more.

Until finally, silence.

He sat facing away from his piano, his face in his hands.

He had homework to do. A song to practice. Makeup to remove. A superhero partner to meet.

He could not talk his body into listening.

It had stopped moving on auto pilot, but he wasn’t back in control yet.

Which might be for the best, really. Part of his mind was still on his floor, hyperventilating.

He wanted to be pretty. And wear beautiful gowns. Like his mother.

But he also wanted cute summer dresses and skater skirts. Flouncy blouses. Ballet flats.

He couldn’t blame that on a childish desire to be like his mother when he grew up, because she didn’t do those things.

His mother’s femininity had been... regal, in a way. Aristocratic.

Adrien didn’t want to be his mother.

Adrien just wanted to… be a girl.

And he’s… she’s? No, he can’t start thinking like that or he’ll slip up somehow, he’s sure. It’s already hard enough to keep the cat jokes—mostly—to one half of himself. One third?

Anyway, he thinks it’s a little ridiculous that it’s taken him this long to put words to a feeling he’s certain he’s had a lot of times before.

He also wishes that the realization had had the decency to wait a few more years.

Adrien isn’t stupid, as much as he plays up the dumb blond thing sometimes.

His father could barely stand to be in the same room as him, since his mother’s disappearance.

Even if his father would have taken Adrien being… not a boy, well, in another lifetime where Adrien had figured this out before Emilie had vanished, he would not take well to Adrien looking any more like his mother in this reality.

And Adrien did not think his father would have taken it well, even then.

And so this is another secret for Adrien to keep to himself.

A third identity. Perhaps his first true identity, and one he refuses to think about long enough to allow it to become concrete, become real.

He didn’t even explain it to Plagg, when he inquired about the panic attack later that evening, after Adrien had turned himself around and placed his hands on the piano.

He ignored it. Maybe if he ignored it, this feeling would go away. He hadn’t always felt like this had he? He couldn’t be that oblivious...

Could he?

🐈‍⬛

It worked and three days later he no longer wanted to crawl out of his skin.

No, he hadn’t actually expected that to work, either.

But here he was, staring at himself in the mirror and, where yesterday he hadn’t been able to look at himself, he was… fine.

More than fine, even.

He liked the suit he had been given for this shoot. The faux leather accents and powder blue pin striped shirt. The way it enhanced his shoulders was distinctly masculine.

And he liked it.

He leaned on the sink.

Looked himself in the eye.

The makeup made his face look more mature, now. Where for years the makeup had just been to even his complexion and hide late nights, for the last several months the artists had been… sculpting his face, contouring and highlighting much more drastically, depending on the shoot.

He looked almost like a grown man, sometimes.

Now.

Was that what had made him think about skirts and being pretty?

He frowned.

He would much rather be handsome, today.

Maybe he should just ignore this, too.

Adrien had been wishing for the feeling of discontent to go away, but for some reason, now that it had…

It was more distressing that it had gone away, almost.

Had he been imagining things?

Just missing his mother? That had been what had started it, wasn’t it?

That wasn’t how things worked, was it?

Adrien was a model, Adrien knew about trans people, and had been not thinking about the fact that he… she…? for days, long enough to almost come to terms with living the rest of his life with that discomfort, like he lived with loving Ladybug:

A constant ache in his chest that he spoke of to no one, except maybe Plagg, some day. Maybe even Ladybug or Nino.

But something that Adrien could never admit to anyone.

Having that vanish was like removing a wall he’d been leaning on after working really hard to build it.

He’s tipped over, metaphorically, and he needs to pick himself back up.

At least he’d only had to deal with a long weekend of work while… that had been burning a hole in his mind, rather than deal with wasting time ruminating when he could be with his friends during the week.

Chapter Text

The feeling comes back.

Adrien isn’t sure how he feels about that, relief that he hadn’t made it all up and the actual discontent—gender dysphoria—warring.

And then he’s fine again.

It only takes one more… cycle before Adrien does enough research to figure out what’s going on.

…They’re non-binary.

Gender-fluid.

There would be some great puns there if they were ever planning on telling anyone.

And that’s the first thing they promise themselves when they find that word online—that they’re never going to tell anyone.

Obviously not while it could ruin their entire life by getting back to their father, but probably not even after they move out and gain independence.

The idea of coming out, even to his friends—especially to his friends, sounds too stressful to bare.

But Adrien can admit it to themself. Has admitted it.

Can’t help the way the pronouns change in their head, even though that makes them nervous about messing up, somehow.

Actually… kind of likes the idea of doing something to acknowledge, privately, when they’re feeling distinctly not boy.

Maybe a pair of earrings, or a loose pirate-y top. Really likes the idea of growing their hair out and is formulating an argument for why their father and Nathalie should let them do so.

But no coming out.

That feels… they don’t want to say unsafe, because their friends are wonderful people, they really don’t think they’ll be bigoted, but just the idea of telling anyone, even Nino—Hell, even *Plagg—*makes them so anxious they kind of want to puke.

🐈‍⬛

Adrien is working up the courage to put on the earrings she’s chosen—they’re not even feminine, just plain silver hoops, why is she so anxious?—the first time she has to transform since accepting that she’s genderfluid a few days ago.

She doesn’t think anything of it when the alarm goes off, resigned to pretending to be a boy as a hero, just like she is going to do at school and everywhere else anyway.

But then she’d transformed.

Caught her reflection in her giant windows.

And immediately untransformed.

“What the Hell, Plagg?!”

Plagg blinks at her. “What?”

“The outfit!”

Though it hadn’t just been the outfit. It had been her hair, too, her body, even, maybe, because there was no way just clothes could make her feel like that. Right?

“The costume has always been all you, kid.” Plagg squints at her, “Did it change?”

“Did it—did it change? Are you serious?”

He scratches at his whiskers. “…Yeah.”

She screams with her mouth closed.

There’s an explosion in the distance.

She sticks her hands in her hair and yanks. “I do not have time for this! Plagg, claws out!”

It is better worse than it appeared at first glance.

The transformation has always made Chat Noir a little taller, a little broader.

Now she appears the same height Chat Noir does, but there are remarkably impractical kitten heels on her boots. And the padding around her shoulders is non-existent, opting instead for what reminds her of a gladiatorial breastplate, which goes very well with… gods, she’s wearing a skirt. The tassely magic leather kind Roman soldiers used to wear.

Her arms and legs are still covered, and her bell and gloves and mask are unchanged.

The most feminine parts of the transformation are how her hair tumbles down her back in chaotic waves, and the fact that she’s wearing lipstick.

That’s the thing that catches her attention and causes her to stare at her reflection for a moment, despite the urgency of the situation, that electric green on her lips.

But there’s another distant explosion.

Her city and her lady are both more important than that brief moment of gender euphoria… or her pride.

Because this is going to hurt.

She’s not ready to come out and it’s really rather cruel of magic to do this to her.

On her way to the fight she has a brief moment where she considers pretending to be her own sister or cousin. But that would cost her and Ladybug time: Ladybug would waste time communicating and guiding if she thought Chat… Noire,Adrien decides—if she thought Chat Noire was a first timer.

It is conveniently easy to convince Ladybug that she is the original Chat Noir—she just lands behind her, cracks a joke about today’s Akuma victim.

When Ladybug groans and turns around, she freezes.

Noire does not tense up, just continues to ‘casually’ lean on her baton.

“…Chat?”

She smirks, thankful for the years of acting lessons. “The one and only! Chat Noire at your service!” She even throws a hand up in the air for drama.

Ladybug blinks a few times, stares at the lipstick. “Okay.” She turns back to where she was surveying the Akuma’s destruction path. “Okay,” she repeats. And again, “okay.” But then she shakes herself, her entire body flailing for a second, and claps. “Okay! Akuma time! There is an Akuma. We should focus on the Akuma. We can talk about this later!”

“Or we could not do that,” Noire has to interject.

“Or we could not do that!” Ladybug looks back at her and nods. And she doesn’t stop nodding. “Whatever—whatever you want! Whatever you’re comfortable with! I would never pressure you into talking about anything you don’t want to talk about! No one should pressure you into talking about something you’re not comfortable talking about! It’s okay if some things stay private and I would hate to make you feel like you have to tell me anythi—“

“My Lady?”

“Yes!?”

“Akuma.”

“Right, yes, that! Let’s go!”

🐈‍⬛

It’s much less awkward once Ladybug gets into the fighting spirit.

🐈‍⬛

Afterwards, they are, as usual swarmed by the press. Escaping them makes it easy for Chat Noire to escape Ladybug, too.

Chapter Text

Adrien gets to school ten minutes into first period because of that fight.

By lunch time everyone is discussing Chat’s new look.

Adrien sometimes hates how Alya will ignore a class to post on the Ladyblog, but, she reminds herself, the students would know from regular news sources or other blogs anyway.

“Hey, bro,” Nino’s voice calls from behind her, as he joins her at her lunch table.

“Hey, dude,” she says reflexively, and squeezes Nino into a quick side hug when he sits down.

She’s not sure how she feels about the nicknames Nino calls her and other guys.

She likes being one of the guys, most of the time. She doesn’t want to lose that.

But she’s not a guy, not right now at least, and being the only one that knows that hurts. She’d really like—

No.

No, no, no.

She told herself that she isn’t going to come out. The nonsense with her costume has nothing to do with Adrien’s identity—now it’s more important that Adrien doesn’t come out anytime soon, really. So she can’t let herself fantasize about what life could be like if coming out as a civilian went perfectly. It would hurt too much when she couldn’t do it.

“What do you guys think about Chat’s new ‘fit?” Alya asks, dropping her lunch tray on the table and sitting across from her boyfriend. “Marinette won’t comment.”

Marinette, more slowly, sits across from Adrien. She glares at Alya. “It’s remarkably inappropriate to speculate about what it could mean. I think we should accept that Chat is a fashion disaster like always and move on.”

“Hey!” Adrien can’t help but blurt. “That lipstick was cute! And the bell is nice on both outfits!”

Marinette turns her attention to her, fierce, and Adrien almost regrets speaking, but then she smiles, blinding, gestures at Adrien as she speaks to Alya, “These are the kinds of opinions people should be discussing!”

Alya holds up her hands. “You’re the fashion police, not me! I’m just saying that it’s a big change! My readers are wondering.”

“Tell them to stop!”

She rolls her eyes. “Because that works.”

“Ban them! You ban people for speculating about the heroes identities all the time now!”

“Ban them for what? Using they/them pronouns? I’m obviously banning the blatant transphobes, but they aren’t the ones wondering if we should be using different pronouns for our favorite cat themed hero.”

Marinette groans.

“I mean, has Chat ever told us to use he/him?” Alya continues. “I think, if they are cis and the outfit means nothing about their gender, correcting people back to he/him will be a lot less uncomfortable than the alternative.” She turns to Nino. “Don’t you agree?”

Nino shrugs. “I know way less about this stuff than you do, Als.” He takes a bite of his lunch.

She turns to Adrien.

Adrien can’t quite control the way her face shifts, wide eyed and anxious.

How does she feel about that?

“I don’t disagree that using they/them pronouns more often is a good idea,” Marinette saves her, gaining Alya’s attention. “But—but what about Ladybug? You’re not speculating about her—I mean their gender, either! Did Ladybug ever tell us what pronouns to use?”

“Oh, my god, you’re right! I’ve gotta change that post—“ aaand she’s absorbed in her phone.

Adrien takes quite possibly her first breath since Alya sat down.

“Now, you,” Marinette says, turning back to Adrien and Adrien sits ups straighter, nervous again. “There is no way you think that shade of green should be on anyone’s lips.”

Adrien scoffs, relaxing. “It’s Chat’s color. Really, it’s that or black.”

Marinette jerks back like Adrien has scared her. Not uncommon, but again, Adrien can’t figure out what she’s done—Adrien has fashion opinions all the time. She’s not being too girly, she’s sure, having a strong opinion about makeup, not in her line of work.

Right?

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Marinette says, slowly. “Black would have been much worse.”

🐈‍⬛

That afternoon there is going to be patrol.

Adrien has met god and knows Tikki doesn’t actually hear prayers, let alone control genders, but Adrien is still praying to feel like a boy by patrol.

When they get home after school, Plagg stares at her for a minute. “So the suit really changed,” he says, having heard the discussions at school.

Adrien stares back. “Yeah.”

A blink. “Did you like it?”

Well, she hadn’t liked everyone talking about it, but the outfit itself? “…Yeah.”

“Cool. Where’s my cheese, kit?”

Adrien has the horrifying realization that Plagg has always called her things like that—kit, kitten, child, My holder, My human. Has Plagg ever referred to her in masculine terms on what she now knows are girl days?

She immediately sets that question aside and does her best to ignore it.

Adrien does not feel like a boy by patrol.

She’s almost nauseous at the idea of having to face Ladybug in a skirt.

She could skip.

She could skip every patrol until she’s Chat Noir again.

Ladybug would be annoyed. Disappointed. But that might be better than facing… whatever her reaction is going to be now that she’s not too surprised to really react.

But… that would still be bad.

It’s not like Ladybug can’t have a bad reaction to her change of costume—and if asked why Noire isn’t going to lie to her—after she changes back.

And avoiding Ladybug entirely is out of the question.

That would break Adrien’s heart, if nothing else.

No, if Ladybug is going to have a bad reaction, Adrien wants to know sooner rather than later.

If that happens, then Chat can avoid her entirely.

Ladybug is there first.

Noire is a little late, partially because for once she’d rather pace in her bedroom, where no one can see her, where she’s safely in boymode, rather than pace on a rooftop. Partially because she’d had to get a better look at her new suit once she’d talked herself into transforming again, twisting this way and that in her closet mirror.

When she lands behind her, gets Ladybug’s attention with a softer than usual, “Hey, Bugaboo,” Bug spins on her heel and stares for a moment, wide eyed.

It’s a visible effort to drag her eyes away from the gentle curves on Chat’s chest and up to Chat’s face where she continues to stare at the lipstick as she speaks, “I think… we should start patrol by heading east.”

Noire chuckles, appreciates Ladybug’s effort to do what Noire had said she wanted, but, “We can talk about it, Ladybug.”

Ladybug kind of deflates at that, “Oh, thank the gods,” and she’s bounding forward the few steps between them, grabbing Noire by the biceps. “Have I been misgendering you this whole time?!”

“What? No!”

“So we should tell the LadyBlogger not to change the pronouns she’s used for you to they/them?”

Gods, that sounds like so much work, editing all those articles, but… Adrien had liked the idea of Alya using they/them more often going forward, at least. The idea of asking for that to not happen—even though it would be the more convenient thing for everyone other than Adrien—makes her too queasy to think of a way to respond immediately

“Because you know that I’ll support whatever you decide, right?” Ladybug continues, squeezing her biceps even harder. “And everyone else can be… dealt with, later.”

Chat thinks a civilian would be bruising. “I, uh… it might be… nice,” she manages to admit, partially because she’s scared of what would happen if Ladybug later discovers that she’d lied here.

“…Alya using they/them pronouns for you?”

Chat nods.

Ladybug looks stricken, then, and Noire has just a second to regret everything she’s ever said or done, but then, “So I have been misgendering you?!”

“Not the whole time! And I didn’t know, I swear!”

“You didn’t—“Ladybug leans back enough to look down at Noire’s suit again, looks back up to her eyes. “You just figured it out?”

Chat bristles at that, knocking Ladybug’s hands off her arms and stepping back, “Plenty of people don’t figure out they’re trans until well into adulthood! Just because I didn’t know as a child doesn’t mean I’m lying now.”

“I wasn’t trying to imply that!” Ladybug holds her hands up in surrender, “I was just—it’s impressive, okay? Comming out at all is hard, but… when—when did you figure it out?”

Chat hasn’t actually come out, though, has she? And she’s not sure if she’s actually ready to say the word gender-fluid out loud, let alone to Ladybug. She sighs, crosses her arms over her chest, looks out over the city. “As soon as things lined up right, the suit changed.”

“…On its own?”

“Plagg has informed me that the suit is a product of my mind and Magic itself and that this is in no way his fault.”

“But did you want the suit to change? Did… did you want to come out?”

She looks down, shakes her head.

“Oh, kitty.” A tentative hand touches her arm. “I’m so sorry.”

She shrugs. “‘S not your fault.”

Ladybug moves closer, slowly, like Chat’s an actual cat that’s been spooked, and Chat turns back towards her, and then they’re hugging.

Chat rests her cheek on Ladybug’s head.

This is nice.

Adrien had considered coming out to Ladybug one day. Had imagined a blurry future, ten years from now, of course, but… this is nice.

Chapter Text

She hadn’t managed to wear her earrings yesterday, so she’s determined to wear them today.

She’s not a coward!

She’s still trying to convince herself of that fact when her alarm to leave goes off so she shoves them in her pocket.

It’s such a small change, she tells herself, that no one will notice anyway, and they’re totally gender neutral at that. Besides, she’s worn them before—only at the ‘shoot her father bought them for, but still.

But Chat’s big change yesterday would make any changes she makes as a civilian today, or any time soon, really, more obvious, wouldn’t it? People—Alya being people—will be on the look out for anything out of the ordinary.

She should wait until next time, at least, she’s convinced herself by the time she gets to school.

Which is good because she’s already nervous enough every time Chat Noir(e) gets brought up that day.

It would be easier, certainly for everyone else but maybe for Chat, too, just to stick with they/them.

There’s no way for the media to know what she’s feeling on any given day, so she does like the idea of strangers sticking with neutral pronouns.

But… Ladybug.

Ladybug and she had changed the subject rather quickly after Noire admitted that coming out hadn’t been her choice.

She’s not sure what Ladybug thinks, or what she’s going to think when Chat’s suit changes back.

Adrien has no way of knowing if she’ll have time to… what? finish coming out? before that, but more importantly, she can’t decide if she wants to.

She hadn’t planned on getting this far, even.

And sure, she’d given up hope of Ladybug ever falling for her months ago, supposedly, but every little ding against her chances still hurts and this is a big ding, already, more specifics are only going to make it worse.

Which is, admittedly, a terrible reason, and one Adrien does her best to set aside.

It might be nice having one person—one human person know that she’s a girl, sometimes, and Ladybug is one of her best friends, has already proven to be open minded about gender stuff.

And magic took the option of not coming out at all away from her, it might be nice to come out because she wants to.

Adrien doesn’t realize how much time she’s spent thinking about this until Nino is pulling her aside at lunch instead of walking over to the table they share with the guys when they don’t eat with Marinette and Alya.

Would she rather go sit with the girls?

She thinks she would, sometimes, if they’d let her.

“Dude?” Nino says, close enough to whisper, even though they’ve reached an empty hallway.

Adrien’s face warms, and she worries that Nino somehow knows exactly what she’s been thinking. “Hmm?”

He squeezes her shoulder. “You’ve been kind of quiet today, so I just wanted to check in.”

“I’m just—“ she makes a vague gesture, hoping to convey lost in thought without inviting more questions.

Nino frowns, glances back in the direction of the cafeteria. “Wanna go somewhere else to eat?”

She is astonished at the relief she feels at just the idea of not having to go sit with the guys, now that the option has actually been presented to her.

Nino tilts his head at her awestruck expression.

She quickly composes herself. She’s sure he’s going to ask questions she’s not sure how to deflect, but, “Yes.”

On their way to the bench behind the library—it’s usually free at lunch—she reminds herself that she doesn’t have to tell him anything.

Frankly, she wishes he’d had more of an opinion on Chat’s new suit—I know way less about this stuff than you do, Alsdoesn’t give Adrien a lot to work with in regards to guessing how he’d react to her… stuff.

But… she had been thinking that it might be nice to come out because she wants to. And sure, she can finish coming out to Ladybug, to Paris even, eventually, on her own terms… but she hadn’t gotten to choose to start.

Adrien still has that choice.

And even if Nino doesn’t react well, it’s not like he’s going to tell her father—or like Gabriel would believe him, if he did.

But Nino is her best friend in this half of her life—arguably the larger half of her life—and she doesn’t know what might change between them if she tells him. Doesn’t know what she wants to change or… what she doesn’t.

She is afraid in equal measure that way too much will change and that nothing will.

She can’t think of much she wants to change besides the nicknames, and him understanding why she’s so uncomfortable when the guys hang out sometimes—she’d thought it was just social anxiety from it all still being so new to her, but, well, some days there were at least two reasons she didn’t feel like she fit in.

To be fair, she reminds herself, Nino is more… gentle with her than he is with the other guys.

Which she is reminded of by the way he takes her elbow and leads her to sit down when she almost walks past the bench.

It’s a few minutes and digging out their lunches before Nino says anything, “Did you see that new UMS story mode speed run?”

There are so many reasons why she loves this boy, but as much as she appreciates his blatant offer of providing a distraction, she sets her lunchbox down beside her leg and blurts, “I’ve been doing a lot of research about gender.” Which is kind of an answer to his question, too, because she had not seen the new speed run.

Nino blinks at her. “…Because of Chat?”

He’s kind of got that backwards. She shakes her head. “Longer.”

“Ah.”

“…Ah?”

“Just—um—that’s…what you’ve been thinking about today?”

She nods, wiping the sweat on her palms off on her jeans.

“Have you—uh, have you… come to any conclusions?”

She stares at him. And stares at him. She knows the answer, of course, but her mouth won’t open. She clenches her hands where they rest on her thighs. She can’t even talk herself into nodding again. This hasn’t happened since her first live interview.

“Woah, dude—” he grabs her shoulder, “I mean, Dri—shit—just, breathe, man—dammit.” And he nearly knocks his hat off hitting himself in the forehead.

She can’t help but laugh, a startled exhalation more than real sound, but his stuttering is enough to temporarily shock her out of panicking, out of the hyperventilating she hadn’t realized had started.

Her cheeks are on fire, though, and she’s not sure she’ll be able to answer him if she tries again, so she just buries her face in her hands and focuses on taking a few deeper breaths.

She really should have waited until she had a plan.

Maybe written a letter.

But she’s not really a plans kind of girl, preferring to wing it in most situations.

His hand shifts from her shoulder to rubbing soothing arcs down and back up her spine.

“You said that—that you don’t know much about gender stuff,” she manages.

“I’ll learn.”

She looks up at him then, surprised by how emphatically he’d said that.

He coughs, looks away. “Where, uh, how—I mean,” a breath, “You said you’d been researching, so maybe you can tell me where to start?” he looks back at her, “Text me some links?”

That she can nod to. And, after a few more breaths she asks, “So, um, that new speed run?”

Nino pulls out his phone.

Chapter Text

🐢

After school Dri sent him a couple links—articles on the words non-binary and gender-fluid.

Before reading them, Nino responded, You’re my best friend and I love you.

(That gets I couldn’t ask for a better best friend, and I love you, too.)

During, he sent, Should I ask you what your pronouns are each day?

It takes a long time, but eventually Dri replied, You really don’t have to.

Nino’s not sure if the pause was because Dri was actually busy or if he—they? weren’t sure how to reply, but he is sure that the response isn’t close enough to I don’t want you to.

🎧If it would make you more comfortable, I want to, he settles on, which is an understatement—he’d rather saw off one of his own limbs than hurt anyone he cares about.

🎹 I don’t want anyone else to know, yet.

🎧But what about the things I call you? I could at least stick to gender neutral things sometimes

🎹Alya would notice.

🎧Fair, yeah. But she doesn’t read our texts

🎹I guess you could stick to gender neutral terms in texts.

🎧Is that’s what you want?

🎹I don’t want to make you work too hard.

🎧You’re worth WAY more to me than the effort of changing a few words, Sunshine. Do you want me to ask what your pronouns are each day?

🎹I’ll think about it.

🎧lmk, I’ll stick with neutral things until then

🎹💚

🎧💚

Nino fully intends to bring it up again at some point in the future, maybe after a few not-so-subtle comments about Dri deserving nice things, but for now, he has more reading to do.

🐈‍⬛ 🐢

Adrien is not so overwhelmed that she has to take a moment to herself in her dressing room before that afternoon’s photoshoot.

Okay, maybe she is.

And she does want to tell Nino when to call her, well, her, she’s certain of that, but she just… it’s hard for her to imagine that she’s worth that much effort.

Nino is saying—typing all of the things he’s supposed to say because he’s such a good person but he’s going to get tired of her eventually.

And maybe that’s why she couldn’t bring herself to finish coming out to Ladybug, too, because Ladybug certainly doesn’t need anything else about Chat to be annoyed by. Completely ignoring Adrien’s wildest romantic flights of fancy, Ladybug is under enough stress as is, Chat shouldn’t add something as silly as this to the endless things the Guardian has to worry about right now.

It takes a lot of deep breathing before she manages to head to the set.

🐈‍⬛ 🐢

🎹I’m worried you’ll get tired of me constantly changing the answer, Adrien manages to type to Nino the next morning, feeling brave enough to send that text but not enough to put the earrings in before she heads down for breakfast.

Nino replies while she’s eating. 🎧 *Okay, maybe I’m wrong here, but wouldn’t you just be telling me the answer? The answer changing isn’t your fault.

🎹I guess, but I’m still worried you’ll get tired of the answer changing.

🎧idk, Dri, I expect changing the way I talk to get easier over time, not harder, but neither of us can see the future

And that’s fair, she supposes, he might not find it difficult at all.

It’s not exactly that she’s less worried about asking for too much, it’s kind of the exact opposite. She’s a little convinced that he’s going to get tired of her eventually no matter how hard she tries to not be too much—he’ll probably get tired of *that—*so she might as well ask for this, too.

🎹Okay, then, yeah. It might be nice for you to ask sometimes.

🎧Cool, so let’s start over

In a separate text he sends, Good morning, Dri! Pronouns?

Oh, fuck, this is the hard part.

She types out her response in the car but doesn’t actually manage to hit send and then she’s suddenly on the curb in front of him.

He pulls her into a firmer hug than usual. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” he whispers.

I want to, she thinks. She pulls half away, keeps one arm around him and she uses her free hand to unlock her phone and hit send.

He pulls out his own phone when it chimes.

She doesn’t look at his face as he reads, but he pulls her back into the hug, even more firmly, and says, just as quietly as before, “I’ve always wanted a sister.”

How dare he nearly make her cry in front of the school.

“You’re the best brother anyone could ever ask for.”

🐈‍⬛ 🦊

“Hey, there, Mr. Front Cover,” Alya greets as she sits down. They’re the first two at their usual lunch table this time.

“How do you do, Miss Journalist?”

“I’m doing swell, but the important question here is how are you?”

Adrien frowns. She’d been more careful not to zone out than yesterday, but—

“You and Nino had a moment this morning,” Alya continues, “and he told me to drop it, but I’m allowed to check on my friend, even if you are his best friend first.”

—Alya had been very pointedly not looking at them when they’d let go of each other this morning.

She’d been well out of earshot, but she’d obviously seen them hug twice, both times for longer than normal, and she’d probably noticed how wet Adrien’s eyes were afterwards, when Adrien and Nino had walked over to her.

Nino had immediately started talking about homework to distract her, and had apparently explicitly told her to leave Adrien alone and yet…

Adrien isn’t sure if she’s happy that Alya cares so much or annoyed that she needs to know everything. She supposes that it depends on, “And if I asked you to drop it?”

“…I’d probably remind you that you have more than just Nino to confide in. If you don’t want to talk to me, there’s always Marinette or the rest of our friends. And, of course, let you know I’m glad you’re at least talking to Nino—you areactually talking to him about whatever’s wrong, right?”

Adrien nods.

“Good. Then, that.”

“You don’t want to know just because you want to know everything?”

“I mean, yeah, of course,” she sticks her tongue out at her. “But Nino would kill me if I pushed you too hard.”

Adrien smiles at that.

“Are you asking me to drop it?”

“For now. I’ll probably tell you eventually, though.”

Alya groans, exaggerated, “Ugh, fine,” then **she smiles and lunch continues on like normal.

Alya has a point, though—the next people Adrien might want to come out to as a civilian are Alya and Marinette.

Hell, when she’d been texting Nino, she’d used Alya as a reason not to ask Nino to change how he talks.

And both Alya and Marinette had been very clear about being pro-trans, in their own ways.

And it shouldn’t be so scary because they aren’t as close as she is—they are—wait.

Chapter Text

🐈‍⬛

Adrien is… kind of relieved that the costume changed, now.

The last couple… cycles, he decides to stick with. The last couple cycles, Adrien was pretty sure he was losing his mind.

Now, though, as the doubting thoughts start to creep in—there’s no way he could have been that uncomfortable at lunch yesterday, he must have been deluding himself, and was whatever he was feeling this morning really worth embarrassing himself in front of Nino like that?— during his afternoon classes, he can remind himself that Magic, at least, doesn’t think she was making it up.

And it’s even more of a relief when he transforms into Chat Noir to fight the day’s Akuma.

Apparently he’d been a little afraid that he was going to be stuck in his new suit, but he hadn’t realized that anxiety existed until he’s spending too much time checking himself out in the bathroom mirror, making sure everything is back where he’d expected it.

Okay, maybe the delay in jumping out the window is partially because he’s dreading how everyone is going to be talking about Chat’s suit even more than they have been the last couple of days.

Ladybug stumbles over her own feet when she sees him, but gets back into the fight quicker than with his first costume change.

Thankfully, she’s always quick to run off when Akumas strike during school hours, so he doesn’t feel too guilty when he leaves as soon as their fists have touched.

🐈‍⬛

“M! Did you see that Chat’s suit changed back?” Alya asks Marinette right as she sits down, rushing in a couple minutes after Adrien for some reason.

She huffs, “We are not speculating—“

“Not like that! It’s just so cool that they can do that. Do you think that the heroes can change their suits at will?”

“I, uh, hadn’t thought about that…”

Adrien stops listening to their conversation, least of all because he knows it’s not that simple.

He’d never shifted during the day before, not that he’d noticed at least—but he really hasn’t been paying attention all that long.

Still, it is, perhaps, more disconcerting than the fact that his gender changes at all.

After school, when Nino hugs him goodbye, he calls him dudette and Adrien can’t help but laugh, even though he can’t bring himself to correct him.

🐈‍⬛

By the time evening rolls around and he’s staring at his ceiling, he’s decided that he wants to tell Ladybug before he tells Alya and Marinette, but that he does want to tell them all.

He’s never been a fan of keeping secrets.

But he’s not just going to send Ladybug a couple of links, and he still hasn’t said it aloud.

He wants to practice.

“Hey, Plagg?”

He hums from his spot on the pillow beside Adrien’s head.

“I’m gender-fluid.”

A yawn. “Is that the word for it, kit?”

“Yeah, buddy, that’s the word for it.”

The world doesn’t end.

🐈‍⬛

He puts the earrings in the next morning, mostly to prove to himself that he can and that it’ll be fine.

It feels… like the stakes are lower.

Yesterday, she’d felt kind of like she would die if she’d worn them and any one said anything but today he thinks he can handle it. Odds are, at most, a couple of the girls will say they’re cute, Marinette might even remember the line for the photoshoot they’re from if he mentions it, and no one else will notice. Well, Nino might, now. But Adrien can deal with that much and this way no one will say anything the next time, when they might be feeling a little more vulnerable again.

Nino asks for his pronouns again and Adrien manages to send the text before he leaves home, even though part of him is a little worried it won’t last all day.

Before school goes exactly how he expected, right down to Marinette clearly trying not to stare until he brings up the spring line and she begins to ramble about his fathers designs.

He could not care less about his father’s designs without straining himself, especially the ones he’s modeled, but he could listen to her talk about the weather if she was this passionate.

In fact, he gets elbowed by Nino with a whispered, “Dri, try not to look like you’re melting.”

Adrien flushes bright red and stands a little straighter after that.

Nino and Kagami have both been getting less subtle about pointing out his crush on Marinette, and okay, fine, he likes her a lot. A lot.

But that’s exactly why he can’t ask her out.

If things go as catastrophically with her as they did with Kagami, if Marinette refuses to speak to him for weeks or longer he might die.

That is, of course a slight exaggeration, but Adrien would never risk his friendship with Marinette even for a chance at romance now that that failure of a relationship with Kagami has shown him exactly how much more being a superhero interferes with romantic relationships than it has his friendships.

And all of that was true before Adrien realized that he’s trans. He knows it’s not a deal breaker for everyone, but it is for some, and he can really only date other bi people now, he’s only just realizing.

No, he’ll simply settle for pining after Ladybug and Marinette and probably the next girl to come along that scares him a little, but is overall kind and courageous and lovely and…

Adrien is startled when the bell rings.

🐈‍⬛

At lunch he messages Ladybug with a request and after school she replies with a time for them to meet so Chat finds himself on the Eiffel Tower at dusk, a good twenty minutes early because peace and quiet is so much more peaceful when he’s not trapped in his room.

He has no clue how long it’s been when Ladybug lands beside him, but she starts with, “I’m not late, am I?!” And he reassures her that she’s right on time as he pats the beam beside himself.

As she sits down, “You didn’t change your costume back because of what people have been saying, right? Because I was already planning to have words with Nadjia about—“

“I have no clue what people have been saying, Bug.” Adrien has been avoiding the news and has only heard what his classmates have been saying. Some of that has included regaling against what the bigots are saying, vaguely, sure, but for the most part the only one saying anything today was Alya as she lamented just how many articles she promised to edit. “I’m gender-fluid.” The world, once again, does not end.

“Oh, thank the gods.”

He was not expecting that, though. “Uh… Huh?” Was the media really being so awful?

“I just—I mean—I thought you were, uh, like, going back in the closet? Which would have been fine! If—if that’s what you wanted, but, uh—I just, I just want you happy, Chat, and safe.”

Safe.

Oh, right.

He’s familiar with the statistics.

He’s not sure if she’s worried about him being safe from himself or others, though.

“I’m never telling my father,” Chat says, because he can’t honestly say that Gabriel won’t have a reaction that will hurt Adrien—trapped certainly counts as unsafe in Adrien’s book, especially because of what would have to come after—,“but my friends are all great.”

“Yeah? You’ve told them?”

He shakes his head. “I mean, I told my civilian best friend a couple days ago, but mostly I’ve just watched them react to—“ he gestures at himself. “I couldn’t tell anyone else before I came out to you, My Lady.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone you don’t want to, you know?”

“I wanted to, now.”

“Good. And, um, thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for being so trustworthy.”

Chapter Text

🐞

She can write off Adrien coming out as gender-fluid to her and Alya the day after Chat comes out to Ladybug pretty easily—Alix came out as agender in the girls AFAB? (name change pending) group chat a couple days ago, too.

Two celebrities came out on live tv this morning.

Everyone is inspired by her kitty’s costume change.

So when Nino suggests they eat at the bakery and Adrien says, “Oh, Marinette, can we?” and the four of them trek across the street, and Adrien, before anyone can actually take a bite of anything, says, “I’m gender-fluid,” she really isn’tsurprised.

She is surprised that, when Alya says, “Thanks for trusting us, hun,” Adrien’s response is the same as Chat’s.

“Thank you for being so trustworthy,” Adrien smiles, squeezing back where Alya has grabbed his—their hand.

That’s… weird, right? Two nickels, at least.

🐞

“So, girl, spill,” Alya says after school, when it’s just the two of them in her room—well, the Kwami are flittering around, but they’re all entertaining themselves for once.

“I—what?” Marinette asks.

“Come on, M, the love of your life just came out to you as trans, you have to have thoughts.”

Marinette frowns, confused.

Why would Adrien’s gender matter at all when it comes to that?

And then Marinette realizes, “Oh… I must be pansexual.”

Alya laughs for a long time.

🐞

She cannot write off how, in the coming days, Adrien gives their pronouns in the quartet’s group chat each morning and they always align with Chat Noir(e)’s costume.

Until, a couple weeks later, they don’t.

🐈‍⬛

The day after she comes out to Ladybug, she comes out to Marinette and Alya, with a little help from Nino.

Next, Chat wants to address the media, vaguely. Tell them that they’re non-binary, let Paris think that the suit changes because they want it to even though they haven’t quite mastered that yet. Plagg says it’s possible, at least, to will the suit to change and Adrien is determined to figure that one out.

But for the next couple weeks they avoid actually interacting with the media—as Chat, at least—at all, let alone coming out.

And, sure, Alix comes out to the class in that time and everyone switches to their new pronouns without fuss—not seamlessly, for everyone, but the whole class does their best.

Alix eyes Adrien the first few times they don’t stumble over their new pronouns, and Adrien stares back because, come on, that’s not even a little suspicious, they’re just careful with their words.

Adrien is still certain that Alix knows too much.

And the class being so accommodating is nice, yes, but it doesn’t make Adrien feel better, or comfortable with the idea of coming out.

Adrien is a nuisance.

Adrien doesn’t even like how often their gender changes.

And, frankly, he is right more often than they is—sure, they like the media sticking with gender neutral pronouns, but that doesn’t mean that they want their friends to.

But Adrien is already asking so much of their three closest (civilian) friends, just changing how they text so often. They can’t ask that much of everyone, let alone actually asking them to change how they talk when it changes in the middle of a conversation—this has only happened one more time in the last few weeks but its really annoying.

The third time it happens, when she gets to patrol Ladybug asks, “Does your gender ever change in the middle of the day?”

Noire blinks. “Yeah, why?”

“Just wondering! We should head out!”

And it’s not the weirdest thing Ladybug has ever asked, so Chat doesn’t really think of it again.

Not until Marinette asks the same question, at least.